


You Know I Do

by CarlyWrites



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton's Farm, Clint and Laura Barton's Family, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Clint Barton, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, POV Natasha Romanov, Post-Avengers (2012)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24889669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarlyWrites/pseuds/CarlyWrites
Summary: Clint and Natasha return to the farm after the Battle of New York. Clint is still recovering from being under Loki's control and Natasha privately struggles with the events that transpired.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Laura Barton & Natasha Romanov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	You Know I Do

“Oh, thank God,” Laura runs forward and Clint flinches. It is impossible not to catch the anguish that crosses her face.   
“Clint, its okay,” I murmur into his ear. He leans heavily on me. Since we left the shawarma place, he had been doing worse. There was no longer an enemy to fight, or people to pose for. “It’s Laura,” His eyes aren’t focused, glazed over.   
“Daddy!” A voice screams. Six-year-old Cooper comes running out and Laura fails to grab her older child while simultaneously stopping their youngest child, Lila, from doing the same. Clint’s breaths become shallow and rapid, and I can see him beginning to fall into a panic attack. Perhaps taking him home was a bad idea. “Auntie Nat?” Cooper stops short upon seeing his father, obviously worse for wear.   
“Hi Coop, Daddy’s not feeling too good. But, you know what would make him feel a million times better? An awesome card. Can you do that?” The boy nods seriously and turns back to his mother, who is doing an admirable job holding back tears.   
“Can’t be here,” Clint’s nails begin to dig into my skin.   
“Laur, we’re going to be out in the barn,” I slowly guide Clint into the dim, and slightly dilapidated, structure. He collapses to the ground, seemingly unable to go any further. His fight has run out. I crouch down next to him, “It’s okay. We’re safe, it’s over.”   
He looks up at me with her normal bright blue eyes. Not the unnatural ones that Loki had given him. Those had been cold. These have become haunted.   
“I remember it all. God, Nat. I tried to kill you.”  
“Tried being the operative word here. If our friendship was dependent on not making attempts on each other’s lives, well we wouldn’t have become friends in the first place.”   
“Coulson is dead because of me. My family is only alive because they weren’t important to Loki’s plan. Natasha, I,” He drops his head, “What if I just lose it at any moment? I could snap, be right back under his control.”  
“No, you won’t be. I think the six hours of grueling psych interviews proved that.”   
“I shouldn’t be here. I should be locked up, on the Raft. I killed so many people. Innocents. What kind of monster lets someone else control their actions like that? To the point of killing people who just get in the way?” I step back, my throat tight. _Is this love, Agent Romanoff_? I lied to Loki. It was love. Only someone who loved you could say just a few words and feel like they have ripped you in two.   
“You need to be home. Better here than wallowing in the basement of SHIELD,”  
“Am I even an agent anymore?”   
“I don’t know. The council is meeting next week.”   
“I can’t go in there,” His eyes drift to the house. I nod. That’s okay. We’ll get there.   
“I’ll bring out the air mattress, we stay in the barn.”  
“You are not staying out here with me. Go sleep in your bed. You look like you haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in weeks.”  
“Well, it’s been months, so I say I look pretty good.” He frowns. “And I’ve slept in worse places. A bed and a roof over my head? Might as well be the Ritz.” I reach out and help him off the ground.   
“I told you I’m not going inside.”  
“I know, but you can wait on the porch while I head into the attic and grab the camping stuff.” I place a hand gently on his shoulder, “I think it would do Laura good, just to see that you’re alive. Clint, fielding those calls,” I let out a shaky breath. He nods, his jaw clenched. He still leans on me as we walk, his gaze wandering and unable to hold. Everything is looked at with caution, as though it might not be real.   
“Tasha? Where are we?” My stomach clenches.   
“We’re at the farm, Clint. I’m going into grab camping supplies remember?” His brow furrows. “It’s okay. It’s real.”  
“I can’t hurt them,” He shivers despite the August sun beating down on us. “I can’t, if I did,”  
“You won’t, and I am here. I will never let anything happen to them. I promise.” I try to coax him up the porch steps, to sit in one of the chairs, but he refuses to walk any closer. Resigned, I help lower him to sit on the steps.   
He took the worst beating out of all of us during the battle. He is no demigod. He isn’t protected by an iron suit, or a green rage monster. There is no super serum running through his veins. He is remarkably human.   
“Will you be okay if I run in for a minute?”  
“We’re on the farm?” He frowns. I try to imagine what he is seeing, thinking, but can’t.   
“Yes, we’re safe. On the farm.”   
“The kids? Laura?”  
“Safe.” He nods, his shoulders finally relaxing slightly. Finally accepting that this might be real. “I will be quick, okay? Can I get you anything else?” He shakes his head, tapping his fingers against his thighs in a repetitive manner. I hurry inside and see Cooper and Lila planted in front of the TV. I could count on one hand the number of times I had seen that. Laura is seated on the couch behind them, chewing her lip. Her eyes drift to me and I force out a small smile, even if on the inside, I am screaming. But I can’t fall apart. They need me. Clint needs me.   
_Do you know what it’s like to be unmade?  
You know I do.  
_Clint walked me back from the edge, where the only thing I knew, showing up in the freezing rain, was the location of this farmhouse. I didn’t know him. Laura. Fury. I didn’t even know my own name. He was patient. For months, helped me remember. Even the things I didn’t want to. The horrors I committed. The people who had done that to me. Ivan, playing his games. I reach the top of the steps and pull down the ladder for the attic. Inside are various old boxes of things. I spot a crib for if they ever have a third child. An old dresser. A box holding Laura’s wedding dress. The camping supplies are easy to spot. They are right towards the front, used in the beginning of the summer by Clint and Cooper before he left for his long-term mission. A boy’s weekend, he had called it.   
I head down with the sleeping bags and air mattress. Lila and Cooper are still in front of the TV, watching _Hercules_ , but Laura is gone. Despite the love I have for Clint, and how much I have assured him otherwise, a huge part of me fears he would hurt his family. I run through the front door, prepared to have to fight my best friend for the second time this week, only to see him looking lovingly at Laura, who has brought him the card that Cooper made. Laura’s attention drifts to me briefly, and she blinks her thanks, before looking back to Clint. His face clouds over once more, but she quickly reassures him. I head over to the barn and set up our sleeping arrangements for tonight.   
In the dusty shadows of the barn, I finally allow myself a moment. The events of the past six days hit me like a ton of bricks. I went from Russia, to India, to Austria, to New York. The Hulk nearly killed me, and then Clint. We fought aliens. And I was prepared to die. I fully expected to as I deactivated the portal. Instead, against all odds, we survived. Death is the only thing in life that is final. We survived, which means we can recover. I gather my composure and step out of the barn. With a mask in place, I walk back towards the house. The picture of steadfast strength. I can be nothing less.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this quick little one shot I wrote! Nat and the Barton family always warms my heart! Thank you for reading! :)


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